


I Never

by voxangelus



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Feels, Oral Sex, this got sort of meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 22:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxangelus/pseuds/voxangelus
Summary: Main characters are often unreliable narrators.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaune_Chat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/gifts).



> Written for the Spring 2017 round of Come At Once to jaune_chat's prompt "Never say never" 
> 
> It took me three hours to come up with something that wasn't inspired by An American Tale, which really shows my age.

“You got me,” Molly said. She was curled up in bed with her head pillowed on Irene’s lap, cup of coffee nearby and the papers fanned out at the foot of the bed, enjoying a lazy Sunday morning like many others they’d shared. Her phone had been pinging since she and Irene had run into Sherlock the night before at the Tesco in _their_ neighbourhood and he had apparently been blindsided by their long-term relationship. “By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense. We never should have met.”

Irene scoffed from where she sat up against the headboard and ran her fingers through Molly’s hair. “Only if you go by what Sherlock claims to have seen. For someone who makes his living on being a keen observer, he’s a remarkably unreliable narrator.” 

Laughing softly, Molly pushed her head into Irene’s hand, seeking more petting. “Mmm. Yes, he is. Do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face ages ago when he had to identify your ‘body’? I felt terrible about that for a while. He had such a crush on you.” 

“And then he asked you to do the same for him - clever lass, my Molly is,” Irene purred.

“Of course I am, I have to keep up with the likes of you,” Molly retorted, sitting up to give her a kiss, having had enough of that particular line of conversation. She tasted of coffee and peppermint toothpaste, which just reinforced to Molly that it was a Sunday. It was one of the only times they would both be home together in any given week, and they very rarely bothered leaving the house, much less the bed, before midafternoon. 

Irene leaned over and put her coffee on the bedside table so she could better concentrate on Molly’s kisses. Pleased, Molly pressed closer, cradling Irene’s face in her palms as she kissed her again and again. 

“It’s a pity this is all a figment of my imagination,” Irene murmured against Molly’s lips. “I’m enjoying it a great deal.” She put an arm around Molly’s waist, sliding her hand beneath the ridden-up hem of the kitten-print cotton nightshirt she wore. 

Molly hummed, and unable to get as close as she wanted in the position she was in, straddled Irene’s lap. “It is. Such tragedy that we never met in that club, that we never spent the night dancing and talking in that corner booth and that they never had to kick us out at last call,” she replied, shifting her hands to slip the buttons of Irene’s satin pyjama shirt from their holes one by one, trailing a line of kisses along Irene’s jaw and down her neck as she worked. She was rewarded for her efforts by Irene pushing her nightshirt up more, exposing her back and sides, caressing and gently scraping her fingernails along the skin.

“And that we never went to that all-night diner and had never questionable food and terrible coffee at four in the morning before you never brought me home to your flat, because it was closer and I was exhausted,” Irene murmured, tilting her head to the side as Molly scraped teeth along her carotid. “And you never were so sweet to offer me your bed while you slept on the sofa.” 

“You never were so bold as to tell me that was ridiculous, you didn’t mind sharing at all,” Molly murmured, pushing Irene’s shirt from her shoulders. “And you never got up and made me tea and toast in my own kitchen wearing nothing but your knickers later that morning.” She punctuated the last by hooking her thumbs into the waistband of the pair Irene was wearing at the moment and tugging gently. 

Irene slid her hands down to Molly’s arse and grabbed it firmly, pulling her ever closer. “And you   
Absolutely never kissed me in thanks, and never apologized a million times while your face definitely didn’t turn red.” 

Molly squealed, sliding her hands up Irene’s sides and cupping her breasts. “You never told me I was adorable and sweet, and you never set the tea tray aside, and the tea never got cold while we got significantly warmer.” She pinched Irene’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger, tugging lightly. 

“You never pouted when I had to leave that evening, even after I told you about what I did for a living,” Irene managed between gasps, slipping her hands inside Molly’s knickers to get them on the skin of her arse. “And you never texted me an hour later telling me you would love to see me again if I was okay with that.” 

“You never texted me back immediately in all caps in the affirmative,” Molly murmured, bending to take one of Irene’s nipples into her mouth, biting and suckling at it. 

Irene moaned, abandoning Molly’s arse for the moment to tug her nightshirt up and over her head. “I never wanted to find out if you were even half as good with your tongue as you were with your fingers.” 

Molly pulled back a moment, letting Irene pull the nightshirt off. “I never let you take me out to dinner the next day and back to yours that night. I surely never pushed you up against your front door and got on my knees for you right there,” she whispered into Irene’s ear before going back to her breasts.

“Fuck, Molly,” Irene moaned, threading her fingers through Molly’s hair. 

“Had enough of ‘never’?” Molly asked, glancing up at her with the ghost of a smirk on her lips. 

“Never can have enough of you, my Molly,” Irene replied, leaning down to kiss her.

Molly giggled at that, happy to return the kiss. Happy for anything involving Irene, if she was honest. It had been years, and she was still as in love with her as she’d ever been - probably more so. “Good. I never can get enough of you, either. Lie back and let me show you.” 

Irene shuffled down, getting comfortable. Molly sat back on her heels and watched as she fluffed the pillows, arranging them and then herself on the pile. 

“Ready, your highness?” she asked, lying down on her stomach between Irene’s legs. One of her favorite places to be - and one of the best views on the planet, as far as Molly was concerned. 

Irene nodded, caressing Molly’s cheek. “For you? Always.” 

Molly closed her eyes and leaned into Irene’s palm for a moment with a happy sigh before tugging her knickers down and off, tossing them behind her to land where they would on the floor. She had more important things to attend to, like the beautiful sight right in front of her face. Molly began with her fingers, stroking through Irene’s thatch of dark, trimmed curls and tracing along her labia, up and down. A little moisture had gathered there, and Molly spread it around with the pads of her fingers, listening to Irene’s soft gasps and sighs as she did so. She was torn between drawing things out and taking her time, lazy and sweet like the morning had been so far - or attempting to replicate the first eager, desperate time against the front door. Maybe she’d just get started and see where it led her. 

She kissed Irene’s inner thigh as she delved in a bit more with her fingers, dipping inside to wet her fingers again, siding them up to Irene’s clit to rub in a light, circular motion. It wasn’t going to do much more than titillate, but that was fine with her even as Irene groaned and canted her hips up, wordlessly begging for more than that teasing caress. Molly smirked and spread Irene open with her free hand, licking her from cunt to clit, revelling in the taste of her. Musky, salty, the slightest bit sweet - heaven. She flicked her tongue repeatedly against Irene’s clit, teasing, listening to her whimper and moan, waiting for an as-yet undeclared sign of her having had enough of that treatment. 

“Molly... Molly, _please_. More, please,” Irene begged, reaching down to clutch at her shoulder. 

Ah, yes. That’s what Molly had been waiting for - for Irene to beg her for mercy. That was the mood she was in after their banter recounting the beginning of their relationship - because Molly had wanted to please her from the first time they’d met, but on Molly’s terms. Sometimes that meant that she ended up tied in an intricate rope harness while Irene did all manner of terrible, wonderful things to her for hours on end. Other times, like now, that meant that she was in control. It didn’t matter, she didn’t keep score of how many times she took charge or ceded it to Irene. What mattered was that she felt the freedom to enjoy either as she saw fit. That was what being with Irene gave her, ultimately - the freedom and encouragement to trust her own desires.

The urgency with which Irene had begged went straight to Molly’s head, and she leaned in and closed her lips around Irene’s clit, licking and suckling in a well-practiced rhythm that usually worked wonders, especially when combined with Molly’s fingers inside of her, curved just right to hit her g-spot. Molly glanced up and made eye contact with Irene as she slipped two fingers into her cunt, unerringly finding that spot - she was in no mood to draw this out at the moment. 

Irene stared back at her, eyes wide with admiration and desire. “Molly! Molly, ohhhh my God,” she moaned, unabashedly grinding down onto Molly’s fingers, seeking more. 

Molly added a third finger and licked Irene’s clit rapidly as she ground her own hips against the bed. Her knickers were completely done for, far beyond damp. Getting Irene off never failed to get Molly’s juices flowing, literally and figuratively. When Irene started to clench around her fingers, Molly stopped licking and sucked hard on her clit. 

“Oh, oh, yes, fuckfuckfuck yes!” Irene babbled as she came, hands fisted in the sheets as she rode out the aftershocks. 

Molly eased her through it, then pulled her fingers out and sat up to lick them clean, grinning at Irene as she did so. “And I never made you come before you even finished your coffee,” she quipped. 

Irene grinned, still catching her breath. “Never say never, darling,” she replied.


End file.
